Tonight after golfing 9 holes in 110 degree heat in the late afternoon we ended up at Naked Fish. Upon completion of the meal, we ended up at Yogurtland, a fine establishment for someone who enjoys sweets as much as myself. I got a reasonable portion, which cost $2. Ashton got $9 worth of frozen yogurt, it must have been a pound of ice cream + cookies and gummy worms and shit loaded on top of it. After he took three bites of it he realized that he probably shouldn't have gotten the flavors root beer float + peanut butter + dutch chocolate all in the same container.
Last year around this time we had a rough bet that he couldn't run to the Rio in an hour from roughly the same location (6-7 miles away). Someone randomly brought up that he should run back to Chewy's house, which we calculated to be ~15 miles. We initially based the bet off of 10 minute miles, gave him 10 minutes to eat the ice cream, and then tacked on 20 minutes for whatever he needed. He said he needed 20k to be put up against him at even money. We settled on giving him 3 hours to run this distance in the 90 degree heat at 10 PM. He only needed two and a half of them.
He started off running alongside Starkey, who said that he jogged a little, dry heaved a few times, jogged a little more, threw up while he was jogging and had it stick on his face, stopped, and then "took off sprinting as fast as he could." He lost Starkey at that point.
He was ten or fifteen minutes ahead of schedule at the halfway point. He just kept running, like Forest Gump. We gave him some water and had some guys run pace with him. Everyone in the house that bet against him basically decided that if he did it, it would be well worth the thousands that we lost.
With just a few miles left we sent Maddog to run aside him to make sure he didn't die or try to negotiate a buyout. He took a shortcut that essentially took him off of the road and sent him stumbling through the desert. When he started running again, Maddog couldn't keep up. I think he might've run the last mile as fast as the first. He crashed through the doors 150 minutes after he started, with 30 minutes to spare.
When the bet first started, I would've said we were a little bit of a favorite, but not to doubt him. Most people thought we were leadpipe locks-- his stomach would be too upset to continue, he'd get lost, he'd give up 20 minutes in, the length of the run would be too daunting. In hindsight, we were a pretty big dog. He separates mind and body better than just about anyone I've ever met.
I took some video of some of the shenanigans that took place tonight, but I can't find the cord to connect the camera-- so annoying. Anywho, be on the lookout for it.
In unrelated news, I busted the $1500 6-max today before the second break. I never got much momentum going and I made a really, really bad calldown after I flopped trips and it was extremely clear that my opponent had something better than me. Sigh. I am probably going to take another little break from tournaments for a few days, or I may try switching it up and playing a low buy in PLO tournament.
Peace!
